


Peonies and Oddities

by 8ats



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, Everyone is Trans, M/M, flowershop au, genderfluid carla mccorkle, one sides fidds/stan (for now), trans fiddleford mcgucket, trans stanford pines, trans stanley pines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 14:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6287443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8ats/pseuds/8ats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>i wanted a stancest au that would last through a long term fanfic, so here it is! stanley pines, 4'11 and working at Sweet Stems, a small flowershop. i assure you this will be Super Gay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peonies and Oddities

A soft click of the door opening, and the tiny ring of the overhead bell. A woman walks inside, looking around and hitting up one of the other employees of Sweet Stems, and Stan watches from the counter as he taps his fingers on the desk, watching the clock strike a few minutes past noon irritatedly. His replacement comes through the doors, bell ringing a bit of a harsher sound as they cram through the doors. 

"Gosh, I'm sorry for taking such a long time to get in here, Stanley -" A light voice rings, and the person pushes their bangs out of the way of their eyes, reaching into their hair to grab a flower clip and pin them back again. Hair is a long, ruley brown mess and they're dressed with bright clothes, shorts that end where they should begin and begin right above their stomach.

"Hey, s'alright Carla, you know I lo-oove waiting," Stan rings, although it's peppered in sarcasm and he laughs as she takes his place. "I'll go put your stuff in your locker, then I'm headin' off. Told Sixer we had plans. Don't know what yet though." They look up at the mention of Stan's brother, and smile warmly.

"Well, I hope you two have fun regardless! Don't get yourselves killed." The two share a small laugh and he nods, walking towards the break room and beyond, opening their locker up and tenderly putting their purse and jacket stuffed inside - he usually folds things nicely although his tough nature is only due to the hastiness of wanting to see his brother. He quickly nabs his letterman jacket - it still fit from highschool. The colors were a vibrant gold and midnight purple. He slides it on and stuffs his keys in his pocket, soon heading out of the break room and waving to Carla as he leaves the shop.

\----

Ford's hair was curled around the tight grip of a much taller, bigger man than him. He groans and grunts as he cautiously tests the waters of escape - but he just earns a tighter grip and the man above him starts laughing - he scoffs though, and tries to remain as still as possible. He knows fighting this is just going to earn him a black eye, or worse, so he figures staying put maybe this guy'll lose interest. Most guys only initiate things to provoke a fight or a chase out of the other, right?

So wrong.

Stanford feels a hand creep up along his back and the feeling makes him shake and tears prick at his eyes, flashbacks starting to form in early stages. He opens his mouth to scream - no sounds escape. Everything dissolves into a white noise, he feels as if he's actually going deaf for a moment, until the larger man was knocked away from him by the strong arms of his twin brother.

"Back up, punk !! You want a piece of this??" He asks, standing tall with both of his fists at the ready. It was cute, actually, when Ford was able to focus on him - he's a lot shorter than Ford, by a whole 12 inches actually - and he's almost always been able to surprise him with how tough he actually is. Stanley Pines, standing tall at four feet and eleven inches, while Stanford stands tall at five feet eleven inches. He figured at some point his brother would've hit a growth spurt, although it never came, he made up for it with his muscles.

"What? You? You gonna keep me from touchin' on your nerd brother? Yeah... right. Lucky shot, s'all that was - You ain't even hardly a guy-" He's immediately cut off by Stan rushing towards him and knocking him over with the weight of his body. He easily, and by easily I'm talking /easily/, pins the man down by sitting on his chest, using his fists to pop him one in the cheeks left and right. 

Ford has to snap back to reality because he starts seeing blood smear across the guy's face, and all over Stan's fists. He runs over and touches his back gently, and Stan stops, looking up from his work and smiling softly at his brother. He gets up and off the guy, spitting on his chest before walking off with his twin.

"Stanley, if you aren't more careful about how far you go with beating somebody up, you're going to have the cops on you."

"Yeah, yeah, scold me all you want. But I saw the look in your eyes. I was just walkin' around, and I knew I'd be right back !! I didn't know people were that hungry for you. I mean, yeah, you're gorgeous, drop dead and all that, but really? You must be pretty smokin' to some people." Ford's cheeks light right up at the words, and he hides in his shoulders, crossing his arms. "Besides, that guy was two seconds from callin' me a girl and you know that's my limit before I start having a body count." The two brothers share a quick laugh, and a small pause.

"Well, maybe you look pretty good yourself when you're defending me so nobley."

"Heh, that so?" He sighs, looking down at his hands. "Got pretty messy this time around, yuck. I don't want that loser's blood on my hands. Shouldn't even let his blood have the satisfaction of touching my pure skin. That creep really thought I couldn't take him down, too, just because I'm short !!! What kinda noise is that anyways." It earns a small, heartfelt laugh from Ford, smiling up at him.

"Well, at least you didn't break anything of his. I think."

"You kidding? His nose was hanging by a thread!! Should've taken it with me for a trophy."

"Thought you didn't want any part of him touching your 'pure skin', Stanley."

"Can it, Sixer."

The two walk for a while though, soon getting back to Stan's house. The sky had changed drastically from the blue skies and gentle clouds to some dense grey stormy mess. Stan must've been lost in it enough to not notice Ford had been gawking at the dried blood on his brother's hands. Luckily, he's able to catch himself staring at quickly reverts his gaze to the sky.

"Stanley... have you been thinking about the boat lately? We haven't really touched it in a few months."

"Huh.. Oh, oh! Yeah. I miss workin' on her... We oughta get back to it soon, eh?" He laughs a bit, arms crossing over his chest as he tries to repaint a mental picture of their Stan-O-War, but it's a really foggy memory since it had been some time since they touched it. "I can't even remember the last thing we were working on with it."

"Me either... I've been so busy with my classes I haven't had much free time... Heading for a walk, getting felt up, and walking back home with you has honestly been the light of my whole week. I've been cramming and it's been aggravating, you know?"

"Well... I can't say that I do, you know I don't push hard in school. But I can relate to the aggravating part." He laughs a bit with it, stretching out his arms and fingers. "Tomorrow we oughta go stop by and see her, even if you don't have time to do anything. Just to check on her. Maybe bring her lunch." Stanley laughs a bit at the last part, sighing almost dreamily. "Someday we're going to have it so good, Ford."

He smiles solemnly, and nods - he really wants to continue to go to college so he can continue to learn the things he so desperately wants to. He could probably successfully do all of that within a few years, too ! He wants to come out and tell Stan, but he knows his twin's impulsive behavior is sometimes too hot to handle, and he's been cautious about saying anything for way longer than he should've been - he doesn't want to suddenly surprise him with having to push things back longer, but all in the same he doesn't want his brother under the impression that he's never going to go. It's difficult, what can you do.

"Hey, Sixer, somethin' on your mind?"

His words catch Ford off guard and makes him jump a bit - though Stan wraps an arm around his taller brother to make sure he doesn't end up tumbling over. He laughs a bit too, smiling. He mutters a quick sorry, patting Ford's back as he moves his arm away.

Was Ford always so entranced by his brother? He didn't have to give it much thought before he knew the answer, (yes), and he does his best to move his mind away from the thought again. He'd been repressing most of those feelings, trying his best not to indulge in the scandalous, not to mention illegal feelings. He sighs though, shaking his head no.

"Nothing really, it isn't anything important anyways." He was at least pretty decent at lying, though he knows Stan's better at it and he can never tell if his brother's able to pick up on that or not.

"That's bull, and you know it. Spill the beans to me, bro-bro." He smiles, nudging Ford with his elbow. Should he tell him...? He has his brother's nagging bumps and he rolls his eyes, and takes a deep breath.

"Fine. Well..." he trails off slightly, cheeks gaining color. "I... I'm not going to be able to finish my college classes as soon as I thought, Stanley."

\--

Did.... he hear that right? Ford, college. Can't finish soon. He swears his entire heart shatters inside of him, and he loses all emotion from his face as a lump rises in his throat and weight presses down at the bottom of his stomach.

"Stanley..?" Ford trails off, but Stan can barely even comprehend, and he's starting to tear up. He wants to yell, and he wants to just... Well, he doesn't really know /what/ he wants to do, but this news was the last thing he needed to hear.

"You told me you were going to be another year tops last year! You're gonna just leave me here, just like that?!" He snaps, looking up at his brother with tears in his eyes. He feels so small, and he feels more scared than he has in a great while.

"Stanley, it isn't like college is going to take the rest of my life! Look..." Ford's voice softens, and Stan's teetering on trust with his brother. "I can promise you, it would take me four years max, I want to continue to study outside of my main classes, and I just can't do that on a boat. Regardless, however well I do or don't, four years. Then we'll be able to sail wherever in the world it is that you want."

The pit in his stomach starts to settle, and he wipes his tears on his coat sleeve, blinking away what remains. Trust is locked back into place, although he wishes the other would've explained that sooner! He sniffles and looks back up at Ford, who's giving him a nervous smile.

"You promise?"

"Of course I do, Stanley. I don't wanna spend my life sitting in a classroom, I wanna just do it a bit longer because I won't really have the chance to once we get on that boat. I swear, once it sets sail we'll never land anywhere." He laughs, and his brother joins him, moving closer and hugging Ford's torso.

"Thanks, Stanford. I don't mind waiting, besides, we'll make the boat even better with the extra time!!”

The two grow into a comfortable silence, though the weather has different plans for them. Water slowly starts to drip-drizzle, and then it comes down pouring. The two look at each other, this empty, curious look, then burst into laugher. Stanford adjusts his wet glasses, and the two head inside the house.

\---

"Well, so much for our plans, Sixer." Stan trails off, letting himself sigh as he sits on a shabby couch. He's still soaking wet, although he's managed to peel off his shirt and binder - the water only made it harder to get off, though, and he was tempted to ask for Ford's help. He's sitting on the couch with his hand cupped and holding his chin, his breasts exposed. Although, when he's around Ford he can't say that it bothers him much.

Ford soon returns to him with a towel, and his brother smiles with a small mutter of graditude as he takes it and dries his hair that he had ripped the ponytail out of the moment they got inside. Ford had managed to strip down to just an undershirt and bra - he wasn't always up for binding, it hurt his chest more than he thought it scientifically should, and he was more busy trying to learn, he didn't need to worry about what other people saw him as. (Though, he'd prefer for them to at least view him as a person and not a 'freak'.)

He flips his hair over, combing it through, the curls that traveled to his shoulder almost unruly - yet he tamed them in the best way. Stan catches himself staring, and when he's caught by Ford's gaze, he darts his eyes away - but Ford knows better. He steps over and wrestles Stan down to the floor.

"You just have nice hair is all! Will you get off of me?" Stan grumbles, and regardless of his levels of strength the fact that it's his twin is enough to keep him held down.

"Why were you watching me comb my hair? Thinkin' about that Carla again?" Ford teases, though really the comment pangs through his own chest at his own comment. 

"Carla's sweet but I don't have much interest in them. They have a really nice set of curls, though. Maybe close to one-upping yours." This earns a sound of defeat from Ford, and he falls back, playing possum. Stan laughs, still awkwardly tangled around his brother. "Besides, you pull your curls better off than they do. I really like your hair, why do you think I'm trying to grow mine out Sixer?" Stan lays next to Ford, and the two just watch the ceiling.

"Fair point, fair point. I just figured you work with them and hell, I'm surprised you two haven't went out on at least one date-"

Thunder roars through the house, and Ford jumps easily, clutching his chest. A pang waves through him and he looks as if someone took his energy and sucked him dry. Stan scoots closer to him, and gets him sitting up, and holds onto his hand. In these times, his brother will go into a state of being non-verbal and the two communicate through sign language.

Stan catches Ford's gaze, and he holds up his hand, curling four fingers and his thumb to sign 'O' and then a peace sign with his thumb nestled easily in the middle of them, 'K', with a dusted curious look. '?' He earns a soft nod and smile from Ford as he mimics the signs with a much more positive face. Stan pulls the other into a half hug, sneering. 

"Ok if I talk?" Stan asks, and earns a nod. "Thanks.. you want me to order something? I can run down the street and pick us up something, though unlike how I usually do, I don't have much in the pantry or fridge, 'less you want a cake." Ford smiles and a small bit of air blows out of his nose, a small laugh from him. He looks thoughtful for a moment, then shrugs and gives a 'so-so' sign. "You don't mind either way, huh? Should just order somethin', I don't wanna leave you here in the middle of a storm."

He places a call to his usual local diner, though they say due to the weather they won't be making runs. He groans, and calls up Ford's "college buddy", Fiddleford McGucket.

“Hello?” Huh, his voice is a lot smoother than most of the Southerners Stan’s had the grace of talking to in his past. (Relatives, mostly. He doesn’t much care for them though.)

“Hey, uh… Fiddleford, right? I know you and my dorky brother take some classes together, we’re kinda out of luck because he’s in a panic and I don’t wanna run out and leave him here just to fetch some grub, so, what’s say if you’re free you pick up enough for all three of us and I can finally get to know you? I’ll pay you back and everything.” He wants to bite his tongue off, that sounded a bit fast paced and harsh. Hopefully this Fiddleford guy won’t take it to heart-

“You want me, some depression riddled southern belle to buy you food and come hang out?” Yikes, it’s as if Stan kicked a puppy. He cringes at the thought.

“...Yes?”

“Well geez, Stanley - that is your name right?” Did he make the other actually excited to hang out with him? Sounds like the guy hasn’t hung around in a crowd in months.

“Yeah, Stanley.”

“I’d love to! It’s been a while since I was last able to really talk to Stanford, I know he’s always so busy and whenever we have the chance to work together we always have to go against it because our theorems make each other so excited we giggle like a gaggle o’ schoolgirls!! I’ll head over soon!” He hangs up the phone, and smiles. Not bad, for a first friend of Ford’s anyways. It almost excites Stan, the thought of meeting him.  
It doesn’t take but thirty minutes until there’s a knock at the door, and he opens the door cautiously, but when he notices it’s an obviously shy guy he opens it wide to let him in from the ongoing storm. He shakes his free hand, laughing slightly and taking the big bag of food to the counter.

“Here, just a second, let me grab you a towel. It’s just so nasty out there, isn’t it?” Stan laughs, and Fiddleford joins in.

“It sure is, worse than the flowers bloomin’ in the spring, I tell you. I just got stuff from the local diner, I hope you don’t mind… I got so excited about hanging out with a crowd that I forgot to ask what you even wanted..! I figured though, I know Stanford likes burgers and you seem like you would too -” He’s cut off by Stan putting a teasing finger to his lips.

“It’s fine. How much?” He earns a quick shake of the head from the other.

“I hardly ever have to spend my money, I really don’t mind it. Heck, you have bills to pay, I live free basically - kind of embarrassing, isn’t it?” He laughs it off, but sighs. “Trust me, Stanley, I have plenty of money. Think of it as a gift.”

“Hey, food’s the one way to my heart if there was any.”

That’s when Fiddleford knew the true love at first sight was real.


End file.
